Mission Project

When we started tracking the storm over 2 weeks ago, things were looking sketchy at best. The east coast was taking all of our snow, we were down to dirt patches, PBR, rock skis, and the hope that maybe we could get Mountain Hardwear to send us to Chile this summer to get some. As the storm moved in last week, we held our breath, drank more beer, and crossed our fingers that the snow level might stay under 7500 feet or so, giving us what we knew we all needed. When last Saturday arrived and we hit the base of Kirkwood, we found copious amounts of snow, 30 degree temps, a traffic jam, and our stoke. It wasn't 16 degree Utah snow, but when you are floating on 100mm wide skis, know the terrain really well, and haven't skied pow in a month you'll deal. Saturday was heavy but fun with giant mashed potato face shots that were more like face splats. We skied hard until 1 when soaked, stoked, and tired of the snow/rain mix, we retired to the bar to score some free beers and fearless ladies. That mission did not work out so well. We knew the weather, and knew we were in for a big one tomorrow.

Sunday morning came on like a freight train with 4-6 new at lake level (where we scored a free house for the night, thanks Andy) and 12-14 new at Kirkwood. The head felt a little slow but as usual, because I am a professional, I was still in my ski clothes from 24 hours ago and ready to go. When we hit the parking lot we knew it was on. Standing in that first chair line it was great to see so many faces that you haven't seen since the last storm, and won't until the next, reminiscing about other big days, speculating on moisture content, making fun of people in one pieces or jeans, and taking in the electric vibe of the crowd. As the first chair loaded to cheers and the inevitable mosh pit like swell of the crowd, we clicked in, zipped up, and got ready to hit it. Winter had finally come back (if she was ever there) to us and we were about to unleash a furious vengeance upon her, we were about to unleash Mission White Room.

The snow was classic 25 degree Tahoe butter, sitting on about 3 feet of Saturday's wet glop. This is not powder 8 snow, this is the kind of snow you sit back gather speed and carve deep trenches in, not worrying about what's beneath you. This is what we call Cadillac snow, laiiiid back with your mind on her money and her parent's money on your mind. All day we chased fresh tracks, and chased the ski patrol around from opening to opening, scoring as only a local or, possibly, Hef can. What could be better? As the day was drawing to a close we were still after the shots that would make us famous on the Mountain Hardwear blog, catapulting us to fame, fortune, and hopefully new free gear. Then Thunder Saddle happened. Heading out to the saddle at 3 pm I was stunned to find that I was breaking trail on a traverse of the upper ridge. Could this be? 3pm where was everyone? A quick check of the signs revealed the area was open, and untouched. Apparently the loc's had tired early, gotten sick of the lines, or were simply getting their's somewhere else. With a shout of joy and a hit off of the flask, the three of us hit it and hit it hard. No tracks around... smiles and styles for miles. Steep, bottomless, and virgin. It was so good we had to lap it again just to make sure we weren't smoking something. Satisfied that we had not been smoking something, the second time proved to be just as epic. With no one around we simply moved a few feet to the east of our first lines and hit it fresh again. This is what we came for, this is what we wait months and months for, this is why I am 32 with no savings and busted knees. Here are a few pics from those runs. Enjoy.

Consider Mission White Room completed.

-DMH
President and CEO Team Freeride